


Alone

by calamaticsporks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:04:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamaticsporks/pseuds/calamaticsporks
Summary: Osamu can't figure out whats keeping him up at night.





	Alone

Osamu’s parents keep asking why he can’t sleep. Why he asks for more medicine. “You’re taking too much medication as it is,” they say, eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
“Are you taking it correctly, Osamu?”  
“Yes.”  
“Maybe you’re taking too much. Your body’s developing resistance to it. You can’t just keep on increasing your dosage.”  
“I don't think that’s how it works.” Was all Osamu would say, well aware that his mother was probably right. “Can I just have a little more?”  
“No. That’s not safe.”  
His parents warn him of the consequences. Daytime drowsiness, dizziness, incoordination.  
Somehow, he can’t see these possible defects when he wakes up and looks at himself in the mirror. He sees the dark grey half-moons under his eyes, skin pale and ashen, the results of too many nights spent tossing and turning on his mattress. His mind is tired, but it refuses to let him sleep.  
Osamu sits on the edge of his bed, phone clutched in his hand, until his parents discover he’s still up and he guiltily slides it back to its place on his dresser. Then he lies awake for hours on end, staring at the peeling beige paint on his ceiling. A tradition repeated every night.  
“Why, Osamu?” his parents ask worriedly over cups of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. “Do you know of a reason why you’d be having problems sleeping? Is it because of Atsu-” his mother begins, but his father shoots her a glance and the words die on her lips.  
Osamu raises one shoulder as a response, ignoring the second part of his mom’s sentence. He knows if he tells them the truth, he’d be sent to a therapist at best.

At night, when he tosses and turns and sweats and wonders if he really does need a therapist, he swears there’s something else in the house, awake and moving. he can’t see it, and he can't hear it, but he knows it's there.

It's only when he wakes up on a summer morning, looks at himself in the mirror, and decides he can't stand another day of looking five years older than he actually is that Osamu eventually decides to do something about it. He has nothing to lose, after all.

It’s nighttime again. The crickets are chirping. Osamu takes a deep breath. “Listen up, ghost.” he says quietly, immediately feeling silly. Just go back to bed. Sneak some more NyQuil. There’s no such thing as ghosts. Osamu pushes these thoughts away.  
“Whoever- whatever you are- can you leave me alone or go haunt somewhere else?” Osamu realizes how crazy he must sound and feels a blush creeping up the back of his neck, even though there’s nobody in the room with his. And if it was actually a ghost, well, he wouldn’t be crazy.  
“I mean...I’d really like to sleep. Thanks.” Osamu pauses. Nothing. Osamu flops back down on his bed. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. Must be the lack of sleep.  
A floorboard creaked and he jumped, his heart beating faster. Osamu waited, but nothing happened. He sighed, took a deep breath, and tried to relax, glancing at the clock. 12:34 am. He wouldn't be sleeping for another hour or so.

The next morning is different. He doesn’t look like a zombie when he peeks at the mirror. The circles under his eyes don’t look as defined. Maybe it’s getting better. Osamu smiles, completely forgetting what happened last night.  
His parents notice too. “Maybe it was just the stress of moving that was keeping you up. We’re glad you’re getting better.” They say hopefully, wondering if Osamu can stop using so much medication.  
“Yeah. Maybe.”

That night, Osamu doesn’t stay up on his phone. He goes straight to bed, expecting a repeat of last night. Maybe he’d even fall asleep like a normal person.  
That’s not what happens. The same feeling of apprehension returned, much to Osamu’s dismay. He gave up on trying to fall asleep and opened the window to get a breath of fresh air.

At once he remembered what happened last night. Osamu made a face, not really willing to make a fool of himself again, but at this rate he would try anything to get on a normal sleep cycle by the time school started.

“Listen up...ghost.” Osamu cringed. “Leave me alone, I mean it.”

CLANK. Something fell over. Osamu dove back under the covers.

Minutes passed. Nothing. Osamu slowly peeled off the blankets and crossed the room to flick on the light. The object that had fallen was the plastic cookie jar he kept on his desk. He’d already eaten the last cookie, though. 

Osamu had always thought that somewhere there had to have been a paranormal occurrence. When someone died, Osamu believed that they weren’t truly gone. 

Is that what’s happening here? Osamu drew in a breath sharply, glancing at the cookie jar on the floor. His heartbeat quickened. Have I been right all along? Do ghosts really exist? Osamu kneeled and peeked under his bed for the snacks he had hidden in case he ever got hungry. His parents had a strict “no-food” policy for his room. How they missed the cookie jar, he had no idea.  
He peeled back the cling wrap covering a piece of vanilla cake and dropped it on the floor, inwardly sighing. I hope I didn’t waste a piece of cake for nothing.  
Forgetting to shut his window, Osamu dozes off hours before he expects to.  
He wakes up early that morning. It’s 7 0’clock. Osamu yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When was the last time I woke up this early by myself?  
The piece of cake isn’t there. Osamu, all traces of sleep gone, inspects the smudge on the ground. Okay. Wow. So there is really something lurking in my house. He glances up and sees his open window. Alarm bells go off in his head.

He’s much more energetic during the day, something his parents notice. They share a glance, daring to hope that Osamu is over it.  
\-------  
It’s 9 o’clock and Osamu is already in bed. His parents decide to go to sleep as well, trying not to disturb him. They don’t know that Osamu isn’t sleeping. His window is open and there’s a piece of cake on the ground and Osamu is laying down, staring at the beige ceiling. Watching and waiting for something to appear. He already feels tired, something he would be ecstatic about if he hadn’t observed the cake disappear.

It’s 11 and Osamu startles awake. He blinks rapidly and glances at the floor. The cake is still there. He sighs in relief, assuring himself that he didn't miss his chance. What’s going on with me? The one day I actually want to stay up, and I fall asleep hours earlier than usual.

It’s 12 and Osamu’s about to give up. He’s dead tired, and he keeps on trying to tell himself that he can just do this tomorrow. Or maybe there’s no ghost and it’s just my parents who cleaned it up while I was still sleeping and they didn't get mad at me because Atsumu is-  
SNAP. The sound of a branch breaking outside has Osamu up, fully awake, peeking out of the window into the murky night. He squints and cranes his neck, but he can't see anything. Except- he leans out of the window to get a better look- there’s a pair of golden eyes staring at him from the woods.

Without giving his safety a thought, Osamu jumps out of the window. There's a tree right next to it, which is helpful for when Osamu decides to sneak out. He scrapes his knee on the way down, but he barely feels the pain. All he can see is the fox with black fur and golden eyes, bearing a striking resemblance to his best friend.  
When Osamu had moved away from the Hyōgo Prefecture, he’d barely said goodbye to Suna. They had drifted apart as soon as Osamu left. Suna didn't text him anymore, except for the occasional update on how the team was doing.  
Osamu hit the ground with a thump, feet sliding out from under him. He groaned as he struggled up and started running after the fox. It was fast, but Osamu was determined.  
It was probably at the five minute mark that Osamu, out of breath and struggling to see ahead, tripped and fell. He caught himself on his hands but tumbled into the lake.

Osamu flailed in the water, surfacing unsteadily. He looked around, trying to find the shore, but his eyes might as well have been closed. Everything was pitch black, and it seemed that even the moon had been covered by a cloud. Osamu coughed, reaching his hands out, trying to find land. He glanced up- into a pair of golden eyes.  
The fox that reminded him of Suna was staring at him. Osamu could have sworn it laughed at him right before it turned tail and scampered off. Osamu’s feet found the beginning of the shore, and once again he took off running, deeper into the unknown territory of the woods.


End file.
